


The Eyes Have It

by thinkinghardhardlythinking



Category: Supernatural
Genre: F/M, Fluff, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-07
Updated: 2021-01-07
Packaged: 2021-03-18 13:54:22
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,795
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28619109
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thinkinghardhardlythinking/pseuds/thinkinghardhardlythinking
Summary: Sam and the Reader have been testing Dean’s last nerve with their endless ‘looks’ and obvious attraction. And then there’s a spell with unusual side effects.
Relationships: Sam Winchester & You, Sam Winchester/Reader, Sam Winchester/You
Kudos: 64





	The Eyes Have It

“Would you two quit it already?” Dean shouted, his annoyance palpable in every loud, pained syllable.

“What?!” You snapped back.

He looked at you as if you were testing his patience. “You. And Sam. And…the eye fucking.”

“What?” You and Sam both said at the same time.

Dean rolled his eyes and then closed them, biting down on his lower lip as if his very last nerve was being tried. He took a deep breath. “Fine. That’s not what’s going on at all. He’s not staring at you, undressing you with his eyes…you’re not doing the same right back to him. That’s not what’s happening. I’m imagining things. Clearly.”

“It’s not!” You said, realising as you said it that it sounded already like you were protesting too much.

“I don’t care that it’s evidence of severely bad taste on your part…” He said, as he looked at you over the diner table. “..but it’s starting to put me off my food. And this…” He pointed to the half eaten burger discarded on his plate. “This is the best burger in the entire state. I have literally been dreaming about this burger since we found the case here in Nebraska…and between you two…staring at each other…like that…it’s been completely ruined. So either, for the love of God, just fuck each other and get it out of your systems…or just. Stop. It….Now.”

“Dean…you don’t know what you’re talking about.” Sam said.

Dean glared back at him. He sat back and waved his hand over his half eaten lunch. “Sam…have you ever known me to joke about the ‘Lincoln Diner’s Finest Half Pounder with Cheese Deluxe’? Ever?”

“Well…no…but…” 

Dean raised his eyebrows at him as if resting his case.

“…but that doesn’t mean…”

One of Dean’s eyebrows settled back down but the left one stayed raised in defiance and annoyance as Sam trailed off.

“Look…can we just pay already? You’re not going to eat anymore of that and this witch isn’t going to stop herself….so…” You said, trying desperately to get the awkwardness to end.

“Fine.” Dean said, throwing his money down on the table, still clearly annoyed as stomped his way out of the diner and towards the parking bay Baby was in.

“I wasn’t…looking…like that….not like Dean was making out.” Sam said, clearly flustered as he pulled a face as if he didn’t even understand what Dean had been talking about.

“Oh. I know. Me neither.” You said, shaking your head as you smiled. “He’s just…upset the burger wasn’t as good as he remembered.”

“Exactly!” Said Sam, holding the door open for you as you made your way outside.

You stopped for gas along the way to where you thought the witch might be and Sam went to grab a bottle of water from the Gas ‘n’ Sip. Dean motioned for you to roll down your window as he filled up the tank.

“Look, I’m sorry…” He said, in a conciliatory tone. “…about drawing attention…to you and Sam…and the whole…eye thing.”

“There is no eye thing!” You said, painfully aware of how shrill your voice came out.

He rolled his eyes. “I said I was sorry for bringing it up but please can we not do this whole ‘denial’ thing? I just…I can’t.” He said, shaking his head as if he found the whole thing beyond tedious. “I just don’t understand why you can’t just flirt like normal people…and then have sex. I don’t get why I have to be put off my food.”

“The burger was not my fault, Dean!”

He tilted his head as if he knew you were wrong and was struggling to be diplomatic about it. “Not entirely, no. It’s his fault too. He does it just as much as you.”

“He does?”

“Yeah. He does. And I could look the other way when he was staring at your ass when you were on the ladder getting a book from the top shelf in the library. Or when you were drooling when he walked into the kitchen without a top after his shower, which there was no need for him to do, by the way. But now…it’s getting in the way of my lunch…and not just any lunch…the ‘Lincoln Diner’s Finest Half Pounder with Cheese Deluxe’…”

“If anyone was eye fucking anything it was you at that burger.”

“Yeah…well…you both ruined it for me so now I got whatever the burger equivalent of blue balls is…and I ain’t happy.”

“Ew. Gross. And I thought you were apologising…how are you mad again?”

“Because…that burger-”

“Jesus, Dean. The burger’s gone. Let it go.”

He looked genuinely mad for a moment before taking a deep breath.

“Can’t you just…sleep with each other? Properly…scratch the itch…get it over with…let a man eat in peace?”

“No!”

“Why not?”

“He’s my friend. And we live together. Like they say, Dean…’Don’t shit where you eat.’”

“Gross.” Said Sam, suddenly appearing in the passenger side of the Impala and shutting the door behind him as he turned to look at you and Dean, talking through the back window. “Who’s shitting where they’re eating?”

“No one.” You said, pointedly glaring at Dean.

“Which means some of us don’t get to eat at all.” Dean said, finishing up with the gas pump as Sam stared at you in confusion, his face all scrunched up adorably like a puppy who’d got tapped on the nose with a rolled up newspaper and couldn’t figure out why.

You found the witch exactly where you thought she’d be. Or rather, where the other witch had told you she’d be after Dean had ‘convinced’ her to share the information. 

“Witch killing bullets.” Dean crowed, brandishing his loaded gun in the air. “So why don’t you just tell us where you’ve planted the hex bags and give us that book you’ve been using so we don’t have to kill you. We can all just go home and have a nice dinner…some of us skipped lunch.” He shot her a sarcastically pleasant smile as you and Sam both rolled your eyes at him. Of course he had managed to work in his anger about the burger into his wise cracks, you thought as you shook your head at no one in particular.

“Fine.” Said the witch, realising she was outmanned and outgunned. She gave up the location of three of the hex bags she had stashed at potential victim’s houses around town. 

“I’ll go.” Said Sam, his eyes narrowing as he suspiciously glared at the witch.

“OK. Take Y/N with you for back up. I’ll stay here and keep an eye on Sabrina, the not so teenage witch. Make sure she hands over her little book of spells once all the hex bags have been destroyed.”

The witch glowered at him with disdain.

“You sure you’ll be OK?” You asked him.

He waved his gun in the air again as he grinned cockily at the witch. “I got witch killing bullets locked and loaded in case we have any problems. So…I’m sure we’ll be just fine won’t we?”

You caught the look of contempt she shot him, powerful enough to make you shudder from a good few feet away.

“OK, well…call if you need us.” You said, following Sam outside to the car.

You got the first hex bag easily. Sam had picked the lock of the house and it was exactly where she’d said it would be and you’d burnt it outside in the front yard. Despite a confused look from the lady next door, it was a simple, easy success.

You’d followed the same plan of attack with the second and it had been going similarly successfully until….

You’d been on all fours by the side of the bed, reaching under it, trying to feel for the loose floorboard the witch had told you the hex bag was under, when you felt it.

It felt like a large strong hand was running itself across your ass.

“Shit!” You said, turning your head to look behind you. But there was no one there. The only person in the room was Sam and he was way back behind you, on the other side of the room, leaning against the wall, much further than an arm’s reach. Not that he’d touch you like that anyway.

“You OK?” He asked, concerned.

“Yeah.” You said, turning back to focus on the job at hand. You were further down on your elbows, leaning further under the bed when it happened again. Except this time you felt two strong hands holding you either side of your waist. And although you were fully dressed, you felt…well, it felt like something, something that felt an awful lot like an erect penis dragging its way through the folds between your legs. You gasped in surprise as you felt the weight of the ‘hand’ that had been on your right side shift and then…then it felt as if there were fingers, slowly stroking against your clit and then making their way towards your entrance where they stroked again…and again…before teasing you and slowly pushing their way inside of you.

“Oh My God!” You shouted, hurriedly standing up.

“Y/N? What’s going on?” Sam asked with a worried tone as he made his way over to you.

“Did you see a ghost?”

“What?”

“Like…a horny…digitally dextrous…ghost? Here? Just now?”

“What? No. Why?” Sam said, looking at you as if you were crazy.

“Can you get the hex bag? I just…really need some air.” You said, not waiting for an answer as you rushed outside.

You leaned against Baby, forcing yourself to take deep breaths, wondering what the fuck had just happened. Sam made his way out a few moments after and once again burned the hex bag on the front lawn, thankfully this time not earning a questioning look from any neighbours.

“Are you alright?” He asked when he was done and had made his way over to you.

“Yeah. I just…do you think that house was haunted?”

“A witchy hex bag and a haunting in the same house? I mean, maybe but I don’t know why you’d think that?”

“Yeah. No. Maybe I should have eaten more at lunch too. Maybe I’m light headed or something.”

His brow was frozen in confusion as he stared at you. “Did something happen-”

“No. No. I’m fine.” You said, even though you weren’t sure that was the case. “Let’s just…go.”

“You sure you’re OK to go get the next bag?” He asked, concern still writ large across his face.

“Yeah. Yes.” You said, shaking your head to try and shake off whatever it was that had just happened. “Let’s go.”

As Sam drove, you stared out of the window, still unsure what exactly had gone on at the last house but pleased to be speeding away from it. After a few minutes, you felt much better and relaxed back against Baby’s passenger seat.

Sam looked over, smiling kindly at you as he registered that you clearly were feeling much better.

A few blocks further and you felt something again. You tried to keep your cool, not wanting to alarm Sam again and honestly just trying to figure out what the fuck was happening. You had felt a hand on your knee, but now it was rising up, stroking its way up your inner thigh. You looked down at your lap, noticing how your skirt hadn’t risen. There was nothing actually ‘on’ you at all. But still you felt it. It had caressed the skin all along your inner thigh and was now stroking against your pussy.

You cleared your throat and bit your lower lip, seeing your eyes wide in your reflection in the passenger window. 

Then you felt another hand, this one grabbing at your tits. Again you looked down and there was nothing there. You felt what felt like fingers, strong fingers, pinching and rolling your nipple as the hand between your legs got faster and more insistent in its stroking against your clit. As you slowly felt the fingers there make their way towards your entrance again, you felt the nipple that wasn’t being ‘teased’ suddenly feel like it had a mouth fasten around it. You could feel hot breath and then lips and then tongue and then slowly grazing teeth.

“What the fuck?!” You finally shouted, nearly causing Sam to swerve the car.

“Jesus! Y/N? What’s going on?” He shouted back.

The minute you’d said anything all the sensations had stopped. Were you actually losing your mind? Were you haunted? Were you being sexually harassed by a ghost? You genuinely didn’t know and you had no desire to discuss it with Sam.

“Please…can you just drive. I’m sorry…I’m just not feeling great and I’d just really like to get the last hex bag, get Dean and go home.”

“But-”

“Please, Sam.” You said and though you could tell he didn’t like it, the pleading tone in your voice had clearly convinced him to just get the job done.

It was another 15 minutes until you got to the final address and nothing weird happened during that time. Maybe it was over. Maybe you’d imagined the whole thing. Maybe you’d been right, maybe you were light headed…although that didn’t explain the…’nature’ of the sensations you’d felt, but still, why look a gift horse in the mouth? It had stopped and you were grateful.

You were still thinking it over as Sam stood, on a step ladder he’d found in a cupboard, in the upstairs hallway and pushed the panel to the attic up and to one side. He coughed a little at the displaced dust.

“You OK?” You asked, watching him from where you sat on the top stair.

“Yeah…it’s just dusty. She said it wasn’t too far in. Should find it in a minute.” He said.

He stepped up so you could no longer see his head, arms or shoulders, just his chest and below as he felt around the dark.

If you wanted, if you’d ever let yourself, you could walk over to him now. Run your hands up his thighs, over the warm denim of his jeans, maybe run your hands higher and under his shirt so you could feel the tight muscles of his torso. You could drag your nails down the front of him…a little gently…a little not so gently. Maybe run your hands over the front of his jeans until you got him a little excited.

“Whoa!” came Sam’s voice from up in the attic.

“You found it?”

“Um…no, not yet.” He said, stepping dangerously around the step ladder to face the other way. “You still on the stairs?”

“Yeah? Why? Do you need a hand?”

“No! No.”

“OK, Well…Be careful!”

“Yep. Uh huh.” He said.

Where were you? Oh yeah, you were…imagining….

If you were there, stood by him, you could stroke against his cock some more. Maybe when you’d got him all worked up and hard, straining against the denim, you could undo the buttons on his jeans, you could pull out his dick, you were sure it was both big and beautiful. You’d stroke it, teasing him as you ran your hand up and down the length of him, letting your thumb stroke against the velvety tip. And then you’d kiss the tip of him gently before taking him slowly into your mouth and-

“FUCK!” Sam shouted, making you actually get up and run over this time.

“Sam? Sam! Are you OK?”

“Yes. Yep! I’m fine. Great. Could you….could you just go wait…in the car?”

“What? Why?”

“Just…could you? I’ll be down in like one second…oh, wait…I’ve got it, here!” He said, throwing the hex bag down.

“OK…are you coming down too?”

“Um…yeah…in a minute. Go out and burn it for me and I’ll be right there!”

You shook your head as you picked up the hex bag from the carpet. “Alright…I guess I’ll see you outside then?” You said, as you made your way outside.

This yard thankfully had a pretty high hedge that you could stoop behind as you set fire to it, away from prying eyes. You’d just burned it when Sam came out of the house looking visibly shaken.

“You OK?” You asked him.

“Yeah…I think so.”

“You think so?”

“Yeah…come on. Let’s go get Dean and just…head home.”

“OK.” You said, genuinely wanting nothing more than for the weirdness of this day to come to an end.

“You know, for a witch…she wasn’t that bad.” Dean said, later on the drive back.

“Dean…you hate witches. ‘Freakin’ witches’” You said, doing your best ‘Dean’ for the last part as you wondered how she’d gotten him to ease up so much from his usual staunch anti-witch position…and why he was in such a good mood. “Dean…you didn’t…fuck the witch, did you?”

“What?! No! Jesus! We just…had a conversation.” He looked at you through the rear view as if he couldn’t believe the conclusion you had jumped to.

“A conversation? You? With a witch?”

“Yeah. And then she gave me the book. And then she ordered me a ‘Lincoln Diner’s Finest Half Pounder with Cheese Deluxe’ to the house while we waited for you and Sam to get back.”

“What!?!” You shouted.

Sam stirred in the passenger seat but didn’t wake up.

“You ate food…ordered by a witch? What if she put a spell on it, you idiot!?”

“Hey! I got it from the delivery guy myself and she didn’t touch it, and I ate it on the porch, far away from her. And I’m fine…there’s no spell.”

“I don’t fucking believe you! Since when do you trust witches? Since when do you have ‘conversations’ with them?”

“Look…the hex bags are gone. We have the book. Job done. Just…calm down…OK?”

You were still shaking your head in consternation but there was no point arguing with him right now. 

You leaned back against the seat and took a deep breath. It was still a couple of hours drive back to the bunker. You wondered if you should try to sleep. You looked over to where Sam was sleeping, diagonally across from you in the passenger seat. 

You could sleep or you could do what you normally did on long drives when everyone was being quiet…what you’d been doing for the past few months anyway, since your Sam crush had gone supernova. You felt bad about the way you’d been thinking about him, looking at him, recently but also…well, you couldn’t help it. He was so…so…sexy. And also, you figured, as long as you were just day dreaming what harm could it really do? And Dean had said that he thought Sam did it too, though you weren’t sure you really believed that.

You shifted slightly to see him better in the rear view mirror. His head was back, leaning against the back of the seat. His thick neck exposed. God, what you wouldn’t give to be straddling him. Not with Dean there, obviously, but if it was just the two of you. You could lean into his neck, kiss him up the side of it, maybe nibble on his ear lobe, run your hand up into his hair, twist your fingers amongst the strands of his thick, lush hair…maybe pull slightly, not too hard.

You heard Sam let out a moan.

“Hey hey…” Dean laughed. “…think Sammy’s having some happy dreams!”

Maybe he was. You wondered what he was thinking about briefly before returning to your own thoughts.

You’d undo his shirt, let your hands roam over the firm muscles of his chest, maybe lower your head to kiss him over it. You’d seen it before, when he’d walked around the bunker in just his jeans but no top, after his shower. As your eyes skimmed over the plaid of his shirt it wasn’t hard to imagine what was under the flannel.

Then…then you’d kiss your way back up again, whisper something dirty in his ear about how much you wanted him, how sexy he was, how hard you could feel him getting as you ground yourself against him, writhing on his lap and against his growing hardness. Then you’d reach down and undo his jeans, take his firm, straining cock out, working it with your hand as you dragged it against your heat over your underwear, feeling it through the fabric.

You shifted slightly in your seat, feeling guilty for your wandering thoughts but seemingly unable to stop them.

You imagined, pulling your panties to the side as you lined him up before slowly, letting yourself sink down onto him, his big, hard cock filling up your warm, wetness as you moved on top of him.

He moaned again, louder this time. Loud enough to wake himself up it seemed, at right about the same time as Dean’s comfort level with Sam’s dream noises was breached.

“Jesus, Sam. That’s fucking disgusting….” He said, truly sounding disgusted.

“What?!” Sam said, rubbing his hands across his face as he blinked, visibly disoriented and shaken. “What…um…what happened?”

“You were having quite the dream there….which, you know…good for you…but your noises were..” He let out a long whistle to show that he didn’t really have the words to explain the noises accurately.

“Oh. Shit.” Sam said, looking panicked as his eyes met yours in the mirror.

You gave him an awkward smile, as embarrassed by your thoughts as he clearly was of his noises. Though….they’d sounded…hot.

Don’t think about that now, you told yourself. The awkward tension in the car was already bad enough.

“So…who were you thinkin’ ‘bout baby bro?” Dean teased.

“What, no one!”

“Oh, sure, right…well, that’s no way to talk about her Sammy, she’s sat right there in the backseat…”

“Dean!” Sam said, all frustration and embarrassment.

“Hey!” You said, as you kicked the back of his seat.

“Don’t take this out on my Baby!” Dean shouted back at you through laughter.

Sam turned round to look at you. “I wasn’t…”

“I know.” You said, smiling at him kindly. He looked mortified.

“Oh Jesus.” Dean said, not quite under his breath.

Eventually you all made it back to the bunker and you were just pleased that the weird day and the awkward car journey was over.

“I’m gonna grab a shower.” Sam said, pretty much as soon as you’d got home.

“I’m gonna get ready for bed.” You said, a few moments later, fixing Dean with a glare.

“Hey….what you giving me the stink eye for?” He said, his forehead creased in annoyance at the unjust hostility of your stare.

“You have to stop. You are making everything weird.”

“I’m making it weird? I’m the only one not being weird.”

“Fine…look, Dean…please. I get that something is going on…and I’ll try, OK…I’ll try and stop it. Nip it in the bud. But you have to stop talking about it. Please…denial exists for a reason.”

He raised an eyebrow at you over his annoyed expression. “So now, I have to go along with your denial?”

“No…just…don’t go on about it, OK?”

“Well….don’t give me stuff to go on about then….or just…fuck already…”

You closed your eyes as you silently willed yourself to somehow find the patience and strength this conversation so clearly required. When you opened your eyes, you were in the war room, alone.

You went and got ready for bed and then made your way to the kitchen. You were hungry and wanted a snack. You made yourself a sandwich and sat at the table with your book, hoping to find some peace to unwind. Clearly Sam had had a similar idea because after about ten minutes he walked in, topless in his jeans, wet hair fresh from being towelled. You heard Dean’s words from earlier echoing in your head, about there being ‘no reason’ for Sam to walk around like that.

“Hey.” He said, flashing you a smile as he went over to the fridge to inspect its contents.

“Hi.” You said back, “You can share my sandwich if you want.”

“Yeah? You sure?”

“Yeah.” You nodded. 

He sat down across from you and grabbed one half of your sandwich from your plate. “Thanks. Don’t let me disturb you…in fact…” He got up again to grab his iPad off the kitchen island. “…I’ve got some reading of my own to do.”

You smiled at him and returned to your book. You were halfway down the page when you felt the weird sensation of being kissed across your neck. You froze and tried to stay calm while you figured out what was happening. There was no way a ghost had followed you from house to house and then stayed quiet all the drive home just to start up again now, you thought as you felt something that felt like lips brushing against yours. And why did it only seem to happen when Sam was around? You felt a pressure, like a hand pushing you up and forward as if wanting to guide you to be bent across the table…yet again you felt one hand on your breast and another snaking its way down your stomach to between your legs.

“No!” You said, loudly and unexpectedly, clearly shocking Sam.

Again…it all stopped.

It was definitely something to do with Sam…but he’d never…try and take advantage of you. Something was going on but you couldn’t quite figure out what. Not without some investigative experimentation, you thought.

“Sorry…the book…someone died…horribly.” You said.

“Oh, OK.” He said…looking confused but unwilling to push you on more details.

You gave it a second, until you felt like Sam was focused on whatever was going on on his iPad screen until you tried your experiment. You looked at him, as discreetly as you could and then imagined sitting on the table in front of him, leaning forward and kissing him, pulling him upwards and undoing his fly and rubbing his cock again with one hand…his sac with the other.

He looked like he was struggling to keep his composure. You were onto something, you thought. You imagined pulling him towards you as you leaned back onto the table guiding him into you, letting him fill you up until he was finally fully seated inside you.

“Holy Fuck.” He said, as he shut his eyes and swallowed thickly, dropping his iPad on the table top as he gripped the edge of the table with his hand.

“I knew it!” You said.

“What?” He said, his breathing erratic as his chest heaved.

“What just happened…to you…then?”

“Nothing.”

“Bullshit.”

“I just….felt something weird.”

“Yeah…something like ‘having sex on this table’ weird?”

He looked at you with his eyes wide, a little embarrassed and a lot confused.

“Did it happen earlier too? When you were on the ladder, looking for the hex bag? And in Baby, when you were sleeping?”

“Um…yeah…”

“Ha! I knew it. It happened to me too….Dean!!! Get in here!!”

“What? I’m not entirely following you…”

“When I was looking the floorboard under the bed…um…did you have…a thought…about me?”

“What?”

“A thought that was perhaps…a little…impure?”

“Impure?” He looked totally baffled.

“Yeah…and then in the car after that…and just now…maybe something about bending me over this table?”

“Oh God!” He said, the penny finally dropping. “DEAN!! Get in here…NOW!!”

“What? What’s happened?” Dean said, hurrying into the kitchen with his grey robe on, gun raised and on high alert.

“What happened with the witch?” You asked, “We’re going to need all the details.”

“What? Why?”

“Just…answer the question, Dean!” Sam said, his voice flustered and louder than normal.

“Nothin’. You guys went…we got talking…I asked why she wanted to hex those people anyway…she said they were annoying…I said that I got that…and we just…ended up talking. No big deal.”

“Wait…you were bitching about us…to a witch?” You asked, incredulous.

Dean looked up for a second as if thinking, as a slow smirk crossed his face. “Ha! A ‘witch n’ bitch’…”

“Dean…I swear to God…” You said, your rage in danger of becoming unrestrainable at any second.

“Right…no….I wouldn’t say ‘bitching’…”

“Did you talk about lunch? Did the phrase ‘eye fucking’ come up at all?” Sam asked, looking almost as angry as you.

“Well…yeah…but it wasn’t a big deal…then said she was sorry I’d missed out on my burger…she knew how good the ‘Lincol-”

“If you say the whole name, Dean so help me God I’m going to kill you!”

“Look….What’s your problem?” Dean asked, clearly unhappy about the repeated threats that you couldn’t keep from uttering.

“That’s when she ordered you a burger…right?”

“SHE DID WHAT??” Sam roared. “You ate food that a witch ordered for you? Dean! How could you?”

“What? I wanted a burger. She knew the number to get me a burger delivered. It wouldn’t have happened if you two hadn’t put me off me food in the first place….and besides…I ate it on the porch…nowhere near her…so-”

“Where’s the spell book, Dean?” You asked.

“What? It’s…here…” He said, walking over to the duffel bag he’d left by the table when he’d first come in. “I saw her put it in here…oh, shit.”

He took out a heavy hardback book that most definitely wasn’t the book of spells.

“Oh my God…” You said, frustrated as you sat back down in your chair.

“Dean…what the fuck?…This isn’t you…you’re not this…stupid.” Sam said, sounding genuinely puzzled.

“Hey…let’s not throw words like that around, OK?…This is all your fault…I was…weak from hunger and do you have any idea how frustrating it’s been recently being around you both…and the awkwardness and the grossness…so yeah…maybe it wasn’t my finest hour…but I have been operating under incredibly stressful circumstances! How did you even know?”

“Because while she was doing the old switcheroo on you with the book and you were eating a fucking burger on the porch swing…she was using the information she’d gathered from her new bestie to put a spell on Sam and me.”

“What? Are you OK? What’s wrong? Sam? You OK?” He had shifted from defensive cockiness to protective concern in a heartbeat and it made it hard to stay mad at him. Not impossible…but definitely hard.

“Yeah…I mean…no…but…” Sam stumbled over his words.

“Well…which is it? Yes or no? Y/N?”

“Every time one of us looks at the other and has a…thought…it feels as if…it’s…happening.” You said, getting slightly quieter with each word you uttered.

“What?”

“We think a thing…it happens…to the other person…sexually.” Sam said, cringing a little as he said the last word.

Dean looked from Sam to you and then back again before erupting in raucous laughter. Loud, deep belly laughs that made him bend over double as he grabbed the edge of the kitchen island to hold himself up.

“I can’t….” You said, looking at Sam and making a very real and very concerted effort to talk calmly over Dean’s uncontrolled hysteria. “I just…I’m going to bed…because it has been a long and stressful day. Please talk to your brother…and get him to fix this.”

Sam just gave you a tight smile as you made your way out of the kitchen.

As you walked down the hall, you heard Dean still laughing wholeheartedly. “I told you to stop eye fuckin’ each other…” He said between the breathless guffawing.

The next morning you saw Sam over coffee in the kitchen, though neither of you could quite make eye contact with the other.

“Um…Dean’s gone to find the witch and get her to fix the spell and get the book.” He said.

“Oh…OK, cool.” You said, feeling slightly embarrassed by the memories of the things you’d thought yesterday. The things Sam must’ve felt.

“I’m sorry…by the way.” He said, lingering over by the doorway with his coffee cup in hand. “For..well…you know…I just…I didn’t know you’d…feel…the thoughts.”

“Well…yeah…same. I’m sorry too…Do you think it’s just when we look at each other…or if we even think stuff?”

“Um…well…when was the last time you felt…the spell?”

“Last night. When we were in here…before we figured it out.” You said, trying to force yourself to look at him but not quite managing.

“Then I think we have to be looking at each other.” He said, sheepishly.

“What? Oh.”

“Sorry…I didn’t mean to…I just…I was in the shower…shit, I’m so sorry.”

“Oh.” You said. You weren’t upset that he’d thought about you in the shower but you also weren’t sure what to make of it. Up until yesterday you’d been pretty sure he didn’t see you like that and had been convinced that the best thing to do was keep your thoughts a secret so as not to ruin the friendship. So much for that.

“I really am sorry, Y/N.” He said, sounding genuinely full of remorse.

“Hey, it’s OK. You weren’t the only one thinking stuff. Yesterday, I mean.”

“I just….I can’t help it. I don’t mean to think about you like that…it just sort of…happens.”

“It’s cool, Sam. I get it….I’m…going to get dressed and try and figure out if there’s a way to break the spell if Dean can’t find her.” You said, getting up.

“Good idea. I’ll help.” He said.

And you were grateful for the help as you looked through books to find what felt like a needle in a haystack. There were no spells that you knew of that were particularly about ‘eye fucking’ per see so it was hard to know what to look for. A revenge spell? One that was about ‘just desserts’? Something about repressed urges? You honestly didn’t know where to start.

You sat back in your chair in the library, scanning the shelves hoping for inspiration to hit. Sam got up and made his way over to the shelves, reaching up to the top shelf, the one you normally needed a ladder to reach. As he did, his shirt rode up and you didn’t mean to, perhaps it was force of habit, but the thought of running your tongue over the tight, golden tract of skin of his back that was revealed flashed across your mind and before you could even stop yourself you were thinking about pushing off his t shirt and kissing your way up his back…all the way to his neck where you wanted to bite, not too hard but hard enough as your hand snaked round to his front, sliding under the waistband of his jeans.

“Oh!” Sam said, looking taken aback by what he had obviously just felt.

“Shit! I’m so sorry.” You said, mortified. “Oh God…I think…I’m just gonna research on my laptop…in my room…alone.”

“Hey…it’s OK…” Sam said. “I was just surpr-”

“No. No, Sam…it’s not OK. I can’t stop. I don’t mean to do it and I can’t stop! And now I’m some kind of….sex pest!”

“What? No!”

“I just…don’t think we should be around each other for a while.” You said, getting up and practically running to your room.

Half an hour or so later, your phone beeped. It was Sam.

>> I’m going to the store to get groceries. We need supplies. Do you want anything?

>> No. Thanks though.

>> OK. Well, I’ll be around an hour and a half, maybe 2? You have the place to yourself and there’s stuff for a grilled cheese around if you want. If you remember anything you want, text me x

You looked at your phone. He was so…great. That kind of made this whole thing harder. There was just something about him. Dean was great and to be honest, he was insanely hot too. But you didn’t think about Dean like you thought about Sam. 

And if it was just the way you wanted him…the way you couldn’t help but want him, couldn’t help but think about him…then maybe you could just ‘get it out of your system’ as Dean had so eloquently put it. But it wasn’t just that…he was sweet. And kind. And smart. And funny.

As much as the sexiness was overpowering; his tall, broad, strong body, the way his hair fell in his face sometimes, the way his eyes seemed to change colour in the light - sometimes dark hazel, sometimes sunflowers amongst the bluest sky, sometimes amber light twirling through the softest green, his smile, his ass, his hands…Dear God, those hands….

As overpowering as it all was, it wasn’t ALL there was. It was his personality as much as it was his hotness. It was all of him. How had you let yourself develop ‘feelings’ for someone who was such a great and valued friend?

Although, it did seem as if he thought about you too. 

You leaned back on your bed and sighed deeply, wondering what you were going to do. Firstly, if Dean didn’t find the witch. And secondly, even if he did.

You did indeed make yourself a grilled cheese while Sam was out and then retreated to hide in your room for the rest of the day.

Though he did message.

>> How’s the research going?

>> Couldn’t find anything. You?

>> No. You sure you won’t come out? We could watch a movie or something?

>> Think it’s best I stay in here.

>> But I miss hanging out.

>> Well, you won’t if we start hanging out and then ten minutes later you ‘feel’ me touching you.

>> When you put it like that, it doesn’t sound so bad.

>> SAM!

>> What? It was only bad because I thought you didn’t want me thinking about you like that. But if you are thinking about me. And I’m thinking about you. I’m not sure why we feel bad about it anymore x

You stared at the screen trying to formulate a response but the more you tried to come up with a logical argument to counter his point, the less you seemed able to. In the end you simply put:

>> But what about the friendship? I don’t want to lose you as a friend.

>> I’m not sure friends think about each other like this? Perhaps that ship sailed a long time ago? I don’t want to lose you as a friend either and also, I’m not going anywhere x

You sat on your bed feeling scared and unsettled. Were you and Sam really going to give this a try? How had things changed so wildly and unexpectedly in the space of a day? 

There was a knock on your door. 

You walked over and opened it.

“Oh, hey. You’re back.” You said to Dean.

“Expecting someone else?” He asked with his eyebrow raised and a knowing smirk on his face.

“No.” You lied.

“Sure.” He said, his tone making it clear he didn’t believe you for one second. “Kitchen. Now.”

He turned and walked down the hall leaving you to follow.

You walked into the kitchen, feeling awkward as you saw Sam already there, seated at the table.

Dean reached into the duffel bag on the island, this time pulling out the actual spell book.

“You got it!” You said, relieved at that at least.

“Yeah, of course I got it. I also found the witch and got her to reverse the spell.”

“So…it’s done? It’s over?” You asked.

Dean nodded and you let out a huge sigh of relief echoed by another, louder sigh from Sam.

“The spell is broken and I had another talk with the witch…you know, I always hated witches, but she…she has a pretty great sense of humour. You gotta admit? After what she did with you two…” He laughed a little but stopped and continued as you and Sam sat there, stony faced. “I explained it from my side, what had happened with you two after she hit you with her mojo and we both had a good long laugh…then I made her undo the spell and give me the book and told her if she caused trouble like this again, I’d have to kill her. Probably.”

“Probably?” Sam asked, his eyebrows high as he blinked incredulously at Dean.

“Anyway…she’s dealt with…but…we still have a problem.” Dean said looking between you and Sam. “I’m not messin’ around when I say that whatever this is between you two…the eyes, the gross horniness…whatever…it’s awkward and weird and distracting and it makes me really, really uncomfortable. And let’s not forget how it nearly robbed me of ‘Lincoln Diner’s-”

You and Sam both finished his sentence for him, in unison. “Finest Half Pounder with Cheese Deluxe.”

“Exactly.” Dean said. “I don’t make mistakes like this and I certainly don’t let a good…no, scratch that, great…meal go by the wayside…I don’t know what the answer is…well, I have a pretty good idea what the answer is…but neither of you will listen to me…so…do something else…whatever else you think will work…but seriously, figure it the fuck out…because I can’t hunt with you, either of you until you do.”

“Dean-” Sam started.

“I mean it, Sammy.” He turned to face you. “You too.”

You were all silent for a moment.

“Well, this is horrible and awkward and it’s not really anything more to do with me…so I’m going to go get a beer…somewhere that isn’t here….maybe talk to some hot women…like a normal person who isn’t just staring at the girl he so obviously finds attractive and wishing he could touch her…when she obviously wants nothing more than for him to fuckin’ touch her….and what I’d love…no, let me rephrase that…what has to happen…is that you guys talk it out, bang it out, sign a treaty…I don’t care…but you fix this. Tonight.”

He turned and walked out of the kitchen.

“Don’t wait up.” He shouted over his shoulder.

The kitchen felt full of silence in the wake of Dean’s absence. That and an almost unbearable awkwardness.

“So…” You said, eventually. “You want to sign a treaty?”

You’d hoped to hear the sound of his reassuring laugh but he didn’t laugh. Instead he sat back in his chair and just looked at you.

“Are you asking me what I want?” He said, looking serious.

“Yeah. I guess.”

“I want to come over there and kiss you.”

“Oh.”

“But not if that’s not what you want me to do…although…”

“Although?”

“…if the stuff I felt yesterday…and this morning…was what you were thinking, then maybe you do. Want me to.”

You stayed quiet, unsure what to say.

“But I won’t…unless you’re sure.”

“Sam…yes, I want that. Of course, I want that…but…what if it ruins everything? What if it changes things? What if we cross a line we can’t uncross? I don’t want to lose you as my friend or…end up having to move out because it’s awkward…”

“What? Why are you talking about moving out?”

“Sometimes things don’t work out. Sometimes sex makes things awkward.”

“And this…the past few days…haven’t been awkward?”

You nodded your head, conceding his point.

“And I’m not just talking about sex…or about losing you as a friend. Or a ‘friends with benefits’ type deal.” He said.

“What are you talking about then?”

“An upgrade?”

You laughed despite yourself. “What?”

“An upgrade…so on top of you being just my friend…who I care about…who I think is maybe the most beautiful and brilliant and sexiest person I’ve ever met…you’re all those things plus…instead of thinking about you, pretty much constantly and absolutely uncontrollably…because I cannot stop thinking about you…I’ve tried and it’s just…I can’t…I also get to do all the things that I want to…that I’ve been dreaming about and fantasising about and wishing I could do…and you get to do anything and everything you want to too…and we still have each other’s backs and have fun and hang out…but just…we get to all of it. So, yeah…an upgrade….or if you’d prefer, I can write all that down and we can call it a ‘Treaty’?”

You smiled at him. “And I get to do ‘everything’ I want?…How do you know you’d like everything I want?”

“If yesterday and this morning was any indication…I’m pretty sure it’s a safe bet.” He smiled at you. A wide, warm, sexy smile. You couldn’t help smiling back.

“Well, it sounds like you have it all figured out.” You said, hearing the flirtatious tone in your own voice. 

“Not everything.” He said, his voice full of a flirtatious tone of his own.

“Oh no?” You said, as he got up and made his way over to where you were standing. He shook his head.

“I’m still not sure if we should go to your room or mine.” He said, grinning at you, as he wrapped his arms around your waist, his eyes staring down at you as a couple of wayward strands of hair fell onto his face, the way you loved.

You shrugged. “We have the place to ourselves, I say we stay right here.”

His grinned spread even wider, his dimples flexing as he did. “I said ‘brilliant’ before, right? Because that is…truly brilliant. Inspired even.”

“Thanks.”

“Y/N?”

“Yeah?”

“I’m going to kiss you now.”

You started to say “Oh, OK.” but you didn’t get very far, because true to his word he kissed you then. And somehow, it felt more magical than any of the witchcraft.


End file.
